The Advocate
by abbywesten
Summary: Missing scene for Can Opener. Things may not have gone exactly to plan in the prison, but Jack gets a second chance to watch out for his partner. Mac whump.


_Hello! This is my first time writing for this particular fandom. I'm a huge fan of the original MacGyver and though I didn't expect to like the 2016 reboot, I'm actually enjoying it immensely - along with many of the stories I find on this site. So I had to add my own. This is a missing scene from Can Opener, and picks up just after the rescue at El Noche's compound. Standard generic disclaimers apply: I don't own the show or the characters (except the original ones I made up for the story). I'm not making any money, I'm not any kind of medical expert so please keep that in mind, it's all just for fun, etc. etc. I hope you enjoy. -abby_

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The second Jack was sure the room was clear, he rushed to his partner's side. MacGyver was slumped in a chair, breathing rapidly, eyes glazed and wrists taped securely to the wooden arms. With a flick of a knife he was free, and Jack frowned when the younger man didn't move.

Jack handed his weapon off to a nearby agent and knelt by the chair. "Hey. Hey, buddy, look at me." Jack grabbed Mac's chin and forced the other man to look up. Mac's pupils were blown wide, with very little blue visible. It was evident that his partner had been drugged. Mac was clearly having a hard time focusing, and his eyes skittered off center even as he tried to meet Jack's. "Aw, man," Jack murmured. He called over his shoulder for the incursion team's medic before returning his full attention to his friend.

"Drugged ya, huh?" Though Mac didn't seem to hear, Jack kept talking in an attempt to gauge his partner's condition. "Jeez. Looks like you've been doped to the gills, kid. You know what it was?" When there was still no response, he gently checked Mac's arms for track marks. Finding none, he tried again. "Mac? Come on now. Stay with me, bud. What did they give ya?"

"Drown...ing." The response was barely audible, and Jack watched his friend's slim chest rise and fall rapidly as he fought for air. "Can't...b-breathe…" _It hurts. I can't breathe. Help me, Jack. Please._

Jack's panic ratcheted up a notch. "They drowned you?" He scanned the room frantically, looking for some evidence of waterboarding. When he spotted the nitrogen tank everything clicked into place. Mac's struggle for breath and heavily drugged appearance suddenly made perfect sense. "Oh man. Okay. I gotcha."

Thankfully the medic, a young woman named Maggie, chose that moment to appear. Jack moved out of the way so she could work, but grabbed Mac's hand reassuringly. "I gotcha, buddy. Hang in there." He busied himself with removing the duct tape El Noche's men had used to bind Mac to the chair. Jack flinched along with his friend as pulling the tape away left dehydrated skin red and raw.

"Mac, I need you to look at me," Maggie said firmly, but not without compassion. "I'm going to put this oxygen mask on you, okay? We need to get your breathing evened out."

Mac didn't respond, not even a flicker. He continued staring blankly ahead, chest heaving, and Jack shook his arm gently, trying to avoid the abraded skin while taking note of the thin wrists. It was clear the young agent hadn't eaten much during his time in prison. "Mac. Mac. Hey, kiddo. Look at us so we know you understand. Can you hear me, bud?" Jack was trying to tamp down the panic but it escalated with every second that passed in silence. He brought out the big guns. "Angus. _Angus!_ Do you hear me?"

Finally, MacGyver's head rolled slightly in Jack's direction and he coughed. _What's going on? Why is breathing so hard? Why does Jack sound upset?_ Mac managed to gather his scattered thoughts, and finally realized that he was the reason for his partner's worried tone. "Hear...you…"

"Good, that's good," Jack blew out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Maggie is just gonna help you breathe a little better, bud. I'll be right here. That okay?" He had noticed the plastic mask on the floor nearby, and was sure it had administered the nitrogen gas. There was always fallout after a rough case, and Jack knew this one had been far rougher than most. He figured Mac wouldn't react well to having another mask forced onto his face, and wanted to give the injured man as much control of the situation as he possibly could.

Sure enough, MacGyver watched warily, hands clinched and eyes half-mast, as Maggie approached with the oxygen. He wasn't tracking at full speed and his first instinct was to pull away. But he could feel his partner close by and a strong, calloused hand firmly covering his own. _Okay. It's okay. Jack's here. I'm safe._ Mac clung to that encouragement and tried desperately to relax as the oxygen mask was fastened over his nose and mouth. The cool air felt good in his abused lungs, and Mac worked on drawing in slow, even breaths.

"That's good, man. There you go," Jack coached encouragingly. He kept a reassuring grip on Mac's fisted hand as Maggie continued her exam. He could feel minute tremors running through the young man's entire body. "Good work, buddy. In and out."

MacGyver's eyes drifted shut. The sharp rise and fall of his chest slowed, and Jack was glad to see that he didn't seem to be working quite as hard for each breath. The older agent glanced at Maggie, eager for her assessment. The medic was fairly new to Phoenix, but had worked with the team a few times before and knew enough about Mac's medical history for Jack to trust her. "How's he doing?"

"He's stable, but we should go. Without bloodwork I have no way to know how much gas made it into his system, and I'll feel better once he's started on a saline IV. I hesitate to try and start one in the field since he's dehydrated. It's hard enough to find Mac's veins under the best of conditions. Plus I think he has at least one broken rib." She looked at Jack. "Will you help me get him to the jeep?" Given the nature of the mission and well-protected location of El Noche's compound they'd had to come in quietly, with a minimal crew. That meant no backup medics or even an ambulance. They would have to transport MacGyver 25 miles, just past the border into Texas, to the nearest hospital.

"Already on it." Jack shifted his attention back to his partner. "I'm gonna carry you, bud. Okay?" He knew better than to think Mac helpless, even in his current state.

Predictably, the young man's eyes opened and he shook his head weakly. "N-no. Can...walk." The words were muffled by the oxygen mask, but the resolve behind them was clear.

"Okay, man. Let's take it slow." Jack gently drew Mac's right arm over his shoulders, and watched as Maggie did the same on the left. "One...two...three." Together, they eased the patient to his feet. The oxygen mask stayed in place, and Jack hefted the small canister with his free hand. The trio shuffled slowly toward the door, allowing Mac to set the pace.

They had barely made it outside when MacGyver's limited energy flagged. He leaned heavily on his partner. "We're almost there, buddy," Jack assured him. "I promise."

"I'll get the driver to come around," Maggie said, and when she was sure that Mac wasn't going to fall she took off for the treeline at a jog.

"W-where're we?" Mac's speech was slurring, and Jack felt his own heart seize up in worry at the question. He knew that marked confusion was a side effect of nitrogen poisoning, but it still was disconcerting to see his partner seem so out of it.

"El Noche's compound, brother. But we're about to take your skinny butt to the hospital and get you checked out, all right?" Jack tried to keep his tone light.

Mac shrugged slightly, which was worrying in itself. But before Jack could really begin to panic, the jeep arrived. Maggie jumped out along with the driver to assist Jack in getting their charge settled. Mac was exhausted and though he tried to help, he found he couldn't get uncooperative limbs to do much more than flop uselessly. Despite the oxygen, he was still finding it hard to breathe and even harder to focus. The mask covering his face suddenly felt claustrophobic and he flailed, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge it. _Get it off. Get it off!_

Jack easily caught both of his partner's hands in one of his own as he set the oxygen tank down. "Take it easy, bud," Jack suggested as he kept Mac from tangling himself in the tube from the mask. "Quit fightin' it. Your only job here is to keep breathing."

Finally, Mac nodded weakly and allowed Jack to arrange him in the seat. The older man reached across Mac's heaving chest and buckled the safety belt, then plopped into the other seat. "Let's hit it," he said to Maggie and the jeep driver. "Hang in there," he directed at MacGyver. "Do you hear me?" He settled a comforting hand on Mac's knee.

MacGyver focused on that hand like a lifeline. His heart pounded in his ears and it felt like a truck was parked on his chest. His vision was tunneling in, turning black around the edges, and Mac's whole world became that hand. Jack's strong fingers were the only thing keeping him grounded in reality - the only thing reminding him that it was over. He'd made it. He'd survived prison and the escape and El Noche's version of interrogation and torture. _It's over. Keep it together, Mac._

Jack seemed to sense his friend's struggle, and tightened his fingers reassuringly. "You're okay, brother. You made it. Just hang in there."

After what seemed like an eternity, the jeep pulled up at the emergency entrance to the hospital and Maggie headed into the building. "We're here, bud." Jack said quietly, keeping his grip firm on Mac's leg.

 _Don't leave me._ Mac tried to say it aloud, but his mouth seemed unwilling to turn his thoughts into spoken words. He rolled his head in Jack's direction.

"I ain't goin' nowhere," Jack assured his young friend. It had been hard enough to leave MacGyver in that prison, virtually unprotected. There was no way he'd leave the kid alone now. Especially not with that look of abject misery in the bloodshot, drug-blown eyes.

As she had a habit of doing, Maggie suddenly reappeared. This time she had an orderly and gurney in tow. "Come on, Mac. Let's get you taken care of," Jack said as he unbuckled Mac's seatbelt and eased the young man gently out of the jeep. The orderly was a large, burly type and he easily lifted MacGyver's slight frame onto the waiting gurney.

True to his word, Jack stayed alongside his friend the whole way into the ER. He was right there as the gurney was wheeled into an examination bay, Mac was transferred onto a bed and a nurse briskly drew the curtain closed behind them. "You'll need to leave, sir," she directed at Jack.

"With all due respect - not a chance, ma'am," came the reply. "I promised my partner that I'd be here. And I don't intend to let him down."

Mac was losing the battle to remain conscious, but his head flopped to the side and fingers scrabbled weakly on the stiff sheets as he searched for Jack. The older man squeezed the thin fingers reassuringly. "I'm right here, bud."

The nurse sighed, but said nothing as she removed Mac's shoes and started cutting away his prison garb. Jack frowned at the sight of his friend's bruised chest and prominent ribs. After the nurse finished, she pulled a sheet up to Mac's waist and left. Almost immediately, a new nurse came into the small exam area with an IV kit in hand.

"Okay, Mr. MacGyver, I'm just going to start your IV." She cleaned off his right hand and started preparing the supplies.

 _No,_ Mac thought fuzzily. _Not there._ He tried to tell the nurse, but words were beyond him completely. Slowly he dragged his right hand across his chest, away from the nurse's reach, and tried to make eye contact with Jack. However, a doctor had appeared at the bedside and though Jack still gripped his partner's left hand, his attention was entirely focused on answering the physician's questions. _Jack. Jack, help._

The nurse had finished the preparations and noticed her patient's movement. "Let's see your hand now, sir," she said, reaching across to grip Mac's right hand and pull it back to his side. He struggled feebly, to no avail. "That's better," the nurse said cheerfully. She ignored his fighting and pinned his hand to the bed, swiped it with an alcohol pad and inserted the needle. Mac grunted in reaction. "Oh dear. Blew a vein. Sorry. Let me try that again." She quickly shifted to a new location, frowning in frustration when the needle again pierced straight through the vein, rendering it useless.

Jack felt Mac's body tense with the second failed attempt and he broke off his conversation with the doctor mid-sentence. "Mac? What's- uh oh." He put a hand out to stop the nurse, who was gearing up for another go at the IV. "Whoa, whoa. Stop. Just hang on. You're not gonna get anywhere. It's hard as hell to get an IV going on my partner here, who has to be unique in every possible way." Jack chuckled. "Try the crook of his right elbow, and if that doesn't work you'll have to go for the ankle. Trust me on this."

The young nurse seemed unsure and looked to the doctor, who nodded. "Always listen to the patient. And if the patient can't tell you, then listen to the advocate."

Mac's entire body visibly relaxed with the exchange, and Jack patted him on the shoulder. "I gotcha, buddy. Never a doubt."

The physician leaned forward into her patient's eyeline. "Hi, Mr. MacGyver. I'm Dr. Bell. Your partner here tells me that you've had quite a rough time the last several days. I'm going to help Sarah get your IV going, then we'll get you checked out. Okay?"

At Mac's small nod, the petite woman smiled. "Good. You just hang in there for us." She joined nurse Sarah at the bedside, and together they finally managed to place the IV securely.

Once the saline line was flowing, Mac felt cool liquid trace into his vein and a violent shudder ripped through his body. _Why am I so cold? It's freezing. I can't breathe._ He thrashed weakly on the mattress, a days-long buildup of tension and stress suddenly escalating toward panic. He felt trapped by the oxygen mask, the thin sheet on the bed, even the IV. _Get it off. Get it out. Get me OUT._ Shock and disorientation quickly became unfocused terror and Mac clawed at his face and arm, dislodging the newly-placed IV in the process. _Where am I? What's going on? Where is Jack?_

"Whoa, what's going on?" Jack was startled by the sudden change. "Mac?"

A look of concern passed across Dr. Bell's face. "Hold him down, Mr. Dalton, before he hurts himself." She grabbed the IV needle, which was still partially inside Mac's arm. Blood dripped down onto the bed as she pulled it completely free and pressed gauze against the wound. "Mr. MacGyver, can you hear me?" There was no response, and she kept talking in an attempt to calm her semi-conscious patient. "I have to replace this IV but he's blown out another vein. We'll have to do the ankle."

Jack shifted his hold so that he was able to grasp both of Mac's arms. He knew his partner was bleeding off stress and pent-up anxiety from the mission, and probably felt both trapped and helpless in the current situation. He hated to restrain Mac further, but also didn't want him to do any more damage. "I'm sorry," he murmured into Mac's ear. "I'm so sorry."

Mac grunted, twisting in Jack's grip. He blinked wearily up at Jack as he fought. Mac couldn't speak but nonetheless, the question reflected in his glassy eyes pierced Jack to his very core. _Why are you doing this to me?_ Jack nearly lost his resolve at the accusatory look on his best friend's face. "I'm so sorry," he repeated. "It's for your own good, brother."

Mac's entire body jerked as Dr. Bell and Sarah pinned his right leg down firmly and located a vein in his ankle. A startled grunt was audible behind the oxygen mask as the IV needle was inserted yet again. "Get the restraints," Dr. Bell quietly instructed the nurse as she securely taped down the port and hooked up the saline bag.

"He's not gonna like that, doc," warned Jack, still keeping a gentle but firm grip on Mac's trembling upper body. He watched while Sarah quickly fastened soft velcro restraining straps to both the bed and Mac's legs. The younger man's thin chest continued heaving as he fought the restraints and the oxygen mask over his face. Jack had never before wished unconsciousness on a teammate, but he fervently hoped that Mac would soon pass out and save himself the misery. "Quit fighting us, kid," Jack pleaded under his breath. Louder, he tried yet again to soothe the injured man. "You're doing fine, bud, and you'll feel better soon."

"I know he won't like it," the physician agreed, "but we can't risk him pulling out the IV again. He's badly dehydrated and needs the fluids. Plus, the sooner we can flush that nitrogen completely out of his system, the faster he'll recover." She arranged a blanket over her patient, careful to leave unfettered access to the IV port at his ankle.

Jack lowered his voice. "Can you sedate him at least?" He glanced down at Mac, who continued to shiver and squirm under his hands. Mac's eyes were closed but rolled beneath the lids, and Jack knew he was struggling to remain awake. The mission was over, but Mac was clearly trapped in fight mode.

Dr. Bell looked apologetic. "I really wish I could," she replied. "I drew some blood before starting his IV and need to see the results before giving him anything. Sarah's taking it for testing now." Jack hadn't even noticed the nurse's absence. "Without knowing the full extent of the nitrogen poisoning any other drugs could have a negative effect." She leaned forward and gently lifted Mac's eyelids to check his reactions with a small penlight, then shook her head. "His pupils are barely constricting. How long has it been since he was dosed?"

Jack sighed. "At least an hour. Probably longer. He was kinda coherent when I first found him, but has definitely gotten worse since then," he explained.

"That's the shock," Dr. Bell assured him. "Adrenaline kept him going for a while but the effect has dissipated and his body is having a harder time processing the nitrogen."

"What can we do then? Just wait?" Jack didn't like the sound of that. Patience wasn't his strong suit under normal conditions, and watching his partner writhe in misery wasn't helping matters. Fortunately, for the moment Mac seemed to have quieted. His struggling lessened by degrees, and after a few moments Jack tentatively pulled his hands away.

"Your friend is quite a fighter, Mr. Dalton," the doctor observed with a smile.

"You have no idea," Jack managed a slight chuckle in spite of himself. "And he can never do things the easy way."

"Most people would have lost consciousness long before now," Bell said with a nod. She took advantage of the situation, gently lowering the blanket and rolling her patient onto his right side to examine a bruise she'd noticed earlier.

"Holy crap," Jack breathed in horror when he finally saw the mottled purple and black contusion. It was huge and swollen, wrapping from the front of Mac's left hip all the way up to the middle of his back.

"Hold him steady," Dr. Bell requested, pointing to where she wanted Jack to put his hands. She gently palpated the area, earning a whimper of pain even through Mac's unconsciousness. "At least one broken rib," she murmured, confirming Maggie's earlier suspicions. "We'll need to get an x-ray." After helping Jack ease Mac into a more comfortable position, she pulled off her gloves and drew back the exam room curtain. "I'll be back in a bit. I'm sure I don't need to tell you to keep him calm if at all possible."

Jack nodded without lifting his eyes from his partner's still frame. He heard the whoosh of the curtain closing as Bell left, then allowed himself to collapse into the bedside chair. A tension headache was building behind his eyes, and Jack rubbed his temples. "Guess I should update Patti and Riley," he muttered, mostly to himself.

As if on cue, Jack's cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn't even bother to glance at the caller. "Hey, Ri."

"What's going on? Is Mac okay? The team checked in and said you got El Noche but then you didn't-" Riley's thinly veiled panic was evident even over the phone line. Jack cut her off.

"I know, I'm sorry I didn't call. Things got a little...hectic."

Riley caught the deflection. "You didn't answer my question. How is Mac?"

Jack watched the rise and fall of his partner's chest and how the oxygen mask fogged with each breath. "He's hanging in, Ri. They drugged him pretty good, knocked him around a little, but we're at the hospital now. Doc says he should recover fairly quickly." He opted for the Cliffs Notes version. He'd have to give a full report soon enough, and the day's events were beginning to catch up with him. Jack knew he was experiencing an adrenaline crash of his own.

"He was drugged?" A new voice, colder than Riley's but still laced with concern. Thornton.

"Nitrogen interrogation," Jack said simply. It was enough.

"I understand," Thornton replied. Jack could hear Riley in the background, demanding an explanation. "We'll be on the next flight," she said before disconnecting the call.

Jack put the phone back in his pocket. "They're on the way, brother. Riley sounds worried as hell. She didn't like this mission from minute one. Looks like she was right." He sighed, scrubbing a hand through his short hair. "At least we got El Nacho, partner. I'd sure be pissed if we'd lost him after what he did to you."

"El...Noche," came a soft, muffled voice. Jack looked up in surprise to see Mac's blue eyes focused directly on him. He looked tired but lucid, and Jack grinned.

"Right, El Noche." Jack stood and leaned over the bed. "How are ya doin'? Gotta admit, you had me worried for a while."

"'M good," Mac whispered. He coughed lightly and winced at the pull on his injured ribs.

Jack snorted out a wry laugh. "Brother, you are so far from good you're not even in the same zip code. But you're awake and talking, so I'll take it."

"What...happened?" Mac vaguely remembered the jeep ride to the hospital, but everything beyond that was a blank. From the concerned look on his partner's face, whatever occurred must have been bad. He watched as Jack scrubbed both hands through his hair, which already looked uncharacteristically disheveled.

"What do you remember?" Jack asked cautiously.

MacGyver coughed again, then reached toward the oxygen mask. He pulled it away from his face slowly before replying. "Nitrogen...gunfire...you. Jeep. Maggie...I think." Mac closed his eyes, thinking. "Not...much else." His voice was reed-thin, and even without the mask Jack had to strain to hear.

Jack reached over and gently took the mask from his friend's shaking hand. He put it back in place. "After we got to the hospital you were...disoriented," Jack said. "Started fighting us, tore out your IV." He gestured at the small bandage taped to the inside of Mac's elbow. "They had to strap you down, put a new one in your ankle," he explained.

"Mm," Mac hummed his understanding. His throat felt dry and it was still hard to catch his breath.

Jack patted his leg. "In fact, if you think you're done fightin' about it, I'll take these off." He pulled the blankets away from Mac's ankles and tugged lightly on the restraining straps. "Yeah?"

Mac nodded. "Thanks," he whispered as Jack unvelcroed the straps and freed the younger man's legs.

"You got it. Just don't move around too much. The doc'll kill me if you rip out another IV."

"Maybe not kill, but certainly maim," agreed Dr. Bell with a chuckle as she pulled back the curtain and stepped into the small cubicle. "Glad to see you awake, Mr. MacGyver. Your bloodwork came back. The nitrogen levels aren't quite as high as I feared, so it seems that your body is processing it very quickly. That's good news." The physician paged through Mac's chart as she spoke, then set it aside and smiled down at her patient. "Do you know where you are?"

A look of confusion flitted across the young agent's pale features. "Ah...hospital in...T-texas?" he guessed.

"Good enough," Bell decided. "Now, we need to do an x-ray and get the extent of the damage to your ribs." As she spoke, a technician pulled aside the curtain and wheeled in a portable machine. Jack helped Dr. Bell roll MacGyver onto his side so the equipment could be positioned.

For his part, Mac tried to hold still and let himself be moved around. However, the jostling was excruciating and he bit down on a gasp. "Breathe, kid," Jack reminded his friend. "I know it hurts, but you gotta keep breathing." MacGyver closed his eyes and tried to take slow, even breaths through the haze of agony. After a few long moments, it was over and Mac was gently settled back onto the pillow. A nurse replaced the bulky oxygen mask with a more comfortable nasal cannula and offered Mac a sip of water, which he gratefully accepted.

"Better?" Dr. Bell asked. She and Jack watched as Mac nodded his relief. "We won't do that again, I promise," she assured her patient. "I'm going to go read those films and then we'll get you moved up to a room for the night." With that, she and the nurse left the two Phoenix agents alone once more.

Jack patted his partner's arm. "How ya doin', buddy? I know you're hurtin' but the doc doesn't want to give you any meds just yet."

"...'s..okay…" Mac said. "Not...too bad." A half-truth, but if he lay perfectly still and took careful breaths the pain was indeed tolerable. "Go...home?" he asked hopefully.

Jack didn't even try to stifle his guffaw. "Brother, you have got to be kiddin' me. Let's get you looking a little less like something the cat dragged in, then we'll talk."

Mac smiled faintly at his friend's predictable reaction. "Worth...a shot."

Jack laughed, a sincere, relieved sound that came from deep within his belly. Since it was finally clear that Mac would be okay, the older man was feeling more relaxed than he had since the beginning of the whole godforsaken mission. After a long moment he sobered and eyed MacGyver thoughtfully. "You did an incredible job in there," he said. "This was a tough one, and I wasn't able to back you up. But you did what you always do - saved the day with little more than a paperclip and half-baked plan."

It was Mac's turn to laugh, though his was cut short by a painful-sounding cough. "Ow," he grunted before continuing. "Didn't...save myself," he reminded Jack. "You...saved me."

Jack opened his mouth, and Mac weakly lifted a hand to stop the inevitable protest. Talking was difficult and Mac's voice was almost gone, but he pushed through. _This is important. He needs to hear it._ "I knew...I could...count on you...to have my back." The last was barely a whisper, and Jack had to lean in close to hear. "Thanks...for being here."

Jack squeezed his partner's cold fingers gently. "Brother, you can _always_ count on that. Now get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up." As if to illustrate his point, Jack settled back in his chair and with a yawn, kicked his booted feet up into the bed's frame. Within seconds he was snoring.

MacGyver smiled fondly and although he was exhausted, for the moment he was content to just lie there and listen to Jack's soft snores. They were the sound of familiarity, of friendship, of comfort and safety.

Finally Mac also drifted into a restful sleep, with a trace of a smile still on his lips.


End file.
